Friends With Benefits
by Phoenix To Flame
Summary: Because that's what they are. FuuKa, lemon.


This little thing was born from being annoyed with the quality of FuuKa lemons on this site in general, since the ones that are there are definitely not as good as they could be, and a rare fit of elitism. And thus I went and did my own.

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><p>They had an...<em>interesting<em> relationship at times, Fuuma and Kamui did.

Mostly of the kind involving almost a vitriolic relationship in public, leading unversed people to wonder how and why they even were friends anyway, a closer relationship among those who were versed in their strange forms of communication.

And the part where it was a shamelessly a friendship with benefits.

They had been tormenting each other throughout the day, ending in Fuuma's inviting Kamui back to his place for 'studying', when even those not in the know knew that neither of them actually had much trouble with school. It was a strange code, but worked out well enough most of the time.

The door was shut by the combination of Fuuma's arms and Kamui's back, being pinned to the cold metal the instant it was close enough to closed to not go in the wrong directions. Lips smashed into each other almost bruisingly, Kamui shivering up into Fuuma's chest as he wrapped strong arms around his back, keeping him from escaping.

Fuuma pulled back almost breathlessly, seeing Kamui's flushed grin. "Someone's eager tonight," the younger man purred, not concerned at all about his state of being stuck against the door. "So we're skipping the actual studying part of studying?"

Fuuma answered that by going straight back to kissing him, almost sloppily before Kamui got back into the rhythm of skin against skin and his fingernails bit into his back in pleasure.

It certainly didn't hurt as much if he had been doing it in anger or to cause pain, but it still stung, and Fuuma took the opportunity to push his arms away, pin him to the door even more.

He broke their lip lock to press them on Kamui's throat, to his breathless gasp. Then he licked at the spot he'd kissed, and the other boy let out a long low sound, vibrating in his chest.

Kamui was making those lovely groaning noises as Fuuma ran his tongue over the curve of his neck, tasting his flesh as he kept his arms pinned. "Why always so loud Kamui?" he asked, slightly breathless, running his mouth over the point where he could feel the throb of the other boy's pulse.

"Be-because I-I like it." Kamui gasped out, straining towards him. Fuuma grasped both of Kamui's wrists in one hand, slid his free hand down the cloth covering his chest and felt the way that his breath sped up at the contact.

Fuuma really couldn't blame him for that little fact, even as he continued to draw out that pleasure, hand slipping lower until Kamui's breath tangled up and caught in his throat, hips rocking against his fingers.

His fingers drummed against the door as Kamui fought to reach back and cling to Fuuma again, eyes wide open in pleasure, the pupils sinking away into the irises as he stared beyond what he could see.

Fuuma kissed him again, somewhere between sweet and brutal, and Kamui responded eagerly, the only way that Fuuma was allowing him.

He squeezed the bulge in Kamui's pants one more time for that strangled noise that he made, before becoming more occupied in undoing his shirt, the buttons threatening to tear with the force he used.

Kamui took advantage of his free hands to fist them in Fuuma's shirt, pulling them closer even as his shirt was undone, the fabric sliding off his shoulders to hang on the bend in his arms, seductive in and of itself somehow.

Fuuma pulled Kamui in still closer, their bodies fitting together enough that they could be seamless. His heartbeat sped up with lust, and he delighted in touching the bare skin at the curve of the other's back.

Kamui managed to control his hands enough to start unbuttoning Fuuma's shirt as well, each brush of skin against skin sending Fuuma higher on a level of instinct and desire.

Both shirts tumbled forlornly to the ground, abandoned as they attempted to figure out how to get past the entryway, requiring a temporary breaking of locked lips to figure out. "You were so eager that you barely waited till we got past the door." Kamui laughed breathlessly as they almost fell over, rounding the corner. "You wanted to take me on the door?"

Fuuma tried to ignore the way that the images made his head spin, opening the door to his bedroom with some difficulty, considering that he was using both hands as a vice to hold onto his partner. "I think that would have been a bit messy to clean up." he retorted, getting the door open so that they stumbled in.

Kamui laughed again, though Fuuma wasn't sure where he was getting the control of breath to do so. "Probably."

Their conversation was forgotten in favor of falling on Fuuma's bed, dislodging the blankets and throwing at least one of the pillows on the floor.

Kamui was underneath, where he liked it because he could always pull Fuuma onto him, and had his fingers fisted in Fuuma's hair, enough to pull out some of the shorter strands if he were to pull any more.

Fuuma for his part, was lying on top of the smaller man, with his mouth somewhere along the curves of his throat, leaving marks that would raise really awkward questions the next day, and thinking less with his head than usual. He ran the pads of his fingertips down Kamui's sides, to brush teasingly at the almost exposed flesh on his hips so that Kamui bucked into him.

Kamui released his hair, to some level of relief on Fuuma's part, and moved his hands down to clench his arms around Fuuma's back, enjoying the smooth skin and ridges of bone that, while not prominent, could still be felt with a knowing touch.

His pants were really feeling too uncomfortable, and he couldn't imagine that Kamui felt any better, the stuttered motion of his hips really intoxicating to feel, rocking upwards with an insistence only Kamui seemed to have.

He undid the buttons of Kamui's jeans, hand lingering teasingly for a moment before crawling back up to pet at his chest, feeling the heavily insistent beating of his heart.

"Ah, _Fuuma_!" Kamui gasped, the sounds almost without voice and tangled up with lust. Fuuma agreed with everything not said in those two words, rocking his hips down just once, even though he was tempted to do it more, a lot more.

"You've got to...help me...in return." he said in return, the words difficult to force out, but necessary.

Kamui caught quickly, moving his hands down from Fuuma's back, to his butt, and then around, to free him from the confines of denim.

His pants and underwear were roughly pushed down and off, Kamui adding his foot in when he could no longer reach with his hands, and Fuuma was only too happy to return the favor, no matter which way the favor giving was working right now, he wasn't concerned.

Their mouths met again in a tongue-filled manner, swallowing each other's sounds and thrill. Fuuma pressed down with his hips, and Kamui pushed up, flesh catching on flesh and desire and lust and want all tying together in feeling and sensation.

Friction begot friction and Fuuma was lost to the ability to stop, feeling only dimly the blankets underneath them twisting and snarling up, the other pillow tumbling to the floor.

Kamui was panting and gasping into his mouth, any sounds made unintelligible by how far they were, wrapped up in each other's skin and flying on sensual eroticism.

Fuuma had always thought of that very point before orgasm as something like standing on the edge of a knife, ready to fall. That simile had always worked well for him before.

The blade of that knife teetered, Kamui's fingernails bit into his back, probably drawing blood, there was a rush of eagerness and desire and joy.

He toppled over without shame, the sound forcing its way through his throat with all the intensity of a roller coaster, soaring into space.

Kamui joined him at that brink, and they fell back to earth together, breathless and sated.

It was somewhere after the exhilarating effects of orgasm had died down and Fuuma was feeling somewhere like he was ready to fall asleep when Kamui propped himself up onto his arms, the blankets sliding down his back. "Fuuma?"

Fuuma resisted the temptation to leave his head buried in the pillows and turned over to look at the young man staring down at him. "Yeah Kamui?"

There was something uncertain in his voice. "I'm...wondering what'll happen with..._this_, if and when we meet people we want to be involved with."

Fuuma couldn't see Kamui's face well enough in the darkness to read everything that was in the shadows of his face, but he did hear the slight nervousness. "What, are you afraid that everything between us will just vanish?"

"Not _everything_," Kamui said, perhaps a bit louder than he meant to. "But the part where we can laugh together over silly things while naked, and not being scared of what people think of our relationship."

Fuuma took a moment to seriously think over this, unperturbed when Kamui moved to loom directly over him, purple eyes barely visible in the darkness. "Well, the circumstances of laughing over silly things while naked will change, but I don't see why the rest would. Is there any reason why it would?"

Kamui smiled, a curve of lips shadowed by the lamp lights outside the windows. "I don't know, but now, I don't think it would, not really."

"'It is what it is', is what you mean Kamui?" Fuuma laughed softly, reaching up to fluff his hair, brushing the strands all out of place.

"I guess so." Kamui's smile turned to a smirk, noticeable only by the changes in his voice. "After all, we've always been strange together."

Fuuma laughed again, the vibrations shaking the blankets around his waist. "Us not being strange would be something like Arashi and Sorata being able to get through a day without stupid comments and physical violence."

Kamui snickered, at last lying back down so Fuuma could pull the blankets up. "Case in point?" He felt a shudder run up Kamui's back as his hand brushed tender skin, the blankets warm in the chilling night. "I'm ready to go to sleep." he sighed peacefully.

Fuuma ran his hand over soft black hair again. "You planning on staying here?" he asked sleepily, the words slurring slightly with the onset of deeper exhaustion.

"It's still alright, right?" Kamui asked, a touch of worry entering his voice.

Fuuma snorted. "Is Subaru still the absolute paragon of being stupid when in love? Yes, it's okay Kamui. Stop talking. I want to go to sleep." And he rolled over in demonstration of this fact.

The other boy snorted again, and said nothing more, just pressed himself into the warmth of Fuuma's back, hair tickling at the back of Fuuma's neck.

Sure, eventually, they'd stop being able to do this in quite the same way, but for now, he saw no reason why it should be different. Fuuma drifted off to sleep calmly, not concerned about the inevitable rush to get prepared for the day when he woke up.

After all, it would be the same pleasant insanity as always.

He looked forwards to that.

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><p>And they totally got together with girls a few weeks after this, Kamui with Kotori and Fuuma with Yuzuriha, to add some het to my gay.<p>

I'm strange. I enjoy it that way.


End file.
